


And My Travelling Companions are Ghosts and Empty Sockets

by ambitiousbutrubbish



Series: Don't Want to End Up a Cartoon in a Cartoon Graveyard [3]
Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Charlie is Suffering, Everyone cries a lot, M/M, Sadness, and talks about their feelings, post-season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:05:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambitiousbutrubbish/pseuds/ambitiousbutrubbish
Summary: "He's not getting better." Matteusz says, and it drops like a lead weight.Matteusz, Charlie and April live in a house filled to the bursting with the ghosts of Rhodia and The Underneath.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The finale honestly destroyed me. But in a good way, not in a Torchwood way. I’m very glad that there’s a non-Doctor Who Doctor Who-related property that I will be able to rewatch probably forever. And I have to believe these crazy kids can make it. Please. I need it. 
> 
> (Prepare the angst train okay but I promise the next one will be happier)

Matteusz has never had this much money in his life. His parents were never poor, but they are aggressively middle-class, and they had always been afraid of what he would do wth financial independence. It’s a shame that now he has it, it comes under the worst possible circumstances. 

The debit card is burning a hole in his wallet. It is, technically speaking, Charlie’s. But Charlie is currently disinclined to use it, seeing as he is similarly disinclined to leave the house. And April, well. He’s sure April has money of her own, but she _can’_ t go out to use it, for obvious reasons. So it is left to Matteusz to shop for the three of them. 

Truthfully, he’s happy to do it. It gets him out of the house. It gives him a chance to breath air not heavy and stale with the feelings of guilt and despair that blankets every room like a dead weight.

April does her best. Sometimes it feels like she is the only one trying to move forward with her life, even if it looks increasingly unlikely that she ever will be able to. She smiles when she sees Matteusz, and she asks him questions about his day. She stretches out on the couch and reads; books with jokes that make her huff a quiet laugh. But Matteusz catches her sometimes, staring unseeing into the distance, the edges of her body fading into a dark, shadowy haze as she unravels. He’d tries to take her hand once, when her fingers were more smoke than solid, and it had felt like plunging into water so cold that it was burning, his lungs full of of bright, frozen fire. His skin had tingled for hours afterwards, and April had faded into the shadows of the house completely, leaving Matteusz alone with the phantom presence upstairs.

Charlie is unreachable. Using the Cabinet has destroyed him, ripped apart his heart and his hope and left him bare and raw and exposed. Matteusz had practically carried him home afterwards, one arm around his waist and the other holding onto his hand to keep his arm around his shoulder as Charlie had hung limply and sobbed. In three and a half weeks, he hasn’t left the house. Matteusz tries every day to get him outside, to see the evidence of the lives he saved with his own eyes, but Charlie stays locked in his room to dwell on those he took. He crosses the hall to shower and dress because it’s a routine he can’t shake himself of, and he makes his way downstairs once a day for food that he eats in silence; mechanically, enough to live, his eyes rimmed in red, dark and blank.

Matteusz had been afraid that if Charlie used the Cabinet he would be hard and cold and vengeful. That he wouldn’t feel anything but victory, his rage and his grief unleashed on beings he felt _deserved_ to die, to be destroyed, every last one, because of what they did to his own people. He had been afraid that Charlie would be utterly alien - unfeeling, _inhuman_ \- about genocide, and Matteusz would never be able to forgive or understand or love him again. That he would be _monstrous_.

He’d been afraid that he would be like Miss Quill, who had only smiled in satisfaction and smirked at Charlie and then left the school with her arm around Tanya’s shoulders, content in the knowledge that she had _won_ , that the Shadowkin had gone and Charlie was in pain. Matteusz had gone to Tanya’s house a week later to check in on her - once he was sure that Charlie wouldn’t hurt himself if he left and April had assured him that she would watch him - but she had refused to talk to him. She hates Charlie for not using the Cabinet sooner, and she hates Matteusz for sticking by him. He wanted to drag her with him to see Charlie, to see what using the Cabinet has _done_ to him and why Matteusz wanted to protect him from it, but he could never do that to her. Tanya is already hurting from the loss of her mother, he could never tarnish her satisfaction at the knowledge that the Shadowkin can never make another orphan. She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves to live as normal and alien-free a life as she possibly can from now on. Matteusz had gone to Ram’s house too, but he and his mother have apparently left town. Whether temporarily or not Matteusz doesn’t know, but he hopes that they too never have to face another alien. 

April had asked him not to visit her mother. Matteusz is not entirely sure what she knows, but April had asked to live with him and Charlie rather than returning home. Sometimes Matteusz is sure that Charlie didn’t agree simply because April is his friend and she needed somewhere to go. Sometimes he’s sure that he agreed because he wants to punish himself; he wants to see the soul of the friend that he killed with the face of the creature that murdered his people and he had murdered in turn. Every day.

Matteusz hasn’t forgiven Charlie. Not exactly. There’s a part of him that is sure that he shouldn’t love him anymore. But every time he looks at Charlie, he knows he does; loves him with a deep, aching certainty. Because Charlie didn’t do it out of hate or vengeance. He did it for love. Love and desperation and a fatalistic, suicidal knowledge that it was the only thing that could save the Earth and everybody on it. And he is suffering. Charlie sacrificed everything for the world. Including himself. He had saved April’s soul, and he had tried to give up his own life to do it. But he had lived. And it is overwhelming him. He is drowning in something that Matteusz can not simply pull him from and breath life back into his lungs. He has lost hope, and without it there is nothing. A dark pit, that falls forever.

And Matteusz feels _guilty_ for his previous fear: he would wish inhumanity for Charlie so that he could be spared from this pain. 

Matteusz had hated that Charlie had to use the Cabinet, but he had accepted it. He had known that it was the only way; how much their inaction had hurt everyone, and how much it would continue to hurt them. And he had gone towards the gymnasium telling Charlie that he that loved him and holding his hand and knowing what he was going to do. But then Charlie had shot April and killed Corakinus and became the King of the Shadowkin and Matteusz knew that using the Cabinet would kill Charlie too, because now he was a part of them. Matteusz does’t know if he is, still. He's scared to ask - is Charlie now the Prince of one race he wiped from the universe, and King of another? So he had pleaded with him - _begged_ him - not to go through with it. Because stopping the Shadowkin once and for all was not worth losing Charlie. He could send him back to their planet and hope they never returned. It was a risk Matteusz was willing to take.

But it wasn’t for Charlie.

********************

The house is surprisingly well soundproofed. Matteusz doesn’t know if it’s natural, or if it’s something Charlie or Miss Quill did so no one could overhear their conversations. Either way, Matteusz doesn’t hear the screech of violin strings, strangled out by a novice, until he’s through the front door. He shuts the door behind him as quietly as he can and puts the shopping bags down softly in the entranceway so he can shuffle closer without making a sound. He peeks around the corner into the lounge area. April is standing with her back to him, her arms folded. He can’t see her expression, not that she’s particularly physically expressive these days, but he can hear her quiet huff of laughter at the sounds Charlie is making with the violin in his hands. He _can_ see Charlie’s face, and he doesn’t look _happy_ , not exactly. He looks confused and honestly a little frustrated, with a hint of fondness around his eyes and his lips, but most strikingly he doesn’t look _miserable_. For the first time in almost a month there is a real expression on Charlie’s face and Matteusz’s inhale is shakier and louder than he had planned on it being. 

Charlie looks past April and the instrument and straight into Matteusz’s eyes and his expression shutters closed, the faint light in his eyes winking out. Without a word he hands the violin back to April and turns and walks up the stairs. Matteusz breaths deeply for a moment and blinks back tears before returning to the front door to pick up the groceries.

It’s his turn to cook. He and April switch on and off. Her practicality extends to the kitchen and her meals are probably technically more proficient but she isn’t much one for experimenting, so Matteusz had insisted that he didn’t mind cooking on top of going out for groceries just to keep some variety in the house. April keeps him company while he cooks, even if it’s mostly silent company. So much of the house is silent, now. It pervades everything like a living creature, every sound and conversation harsh and shocking and smothered in its oppressive weight. 

Today, though, Matteusz can’t stop himself from commenting. “He’s not getting better.” He says, and it drops like a lead weight. 

April looks up from where she had been staring forlornly down at her violin. She can’t play anymore; not with her hands. Matteusz had found her one day clutching the instrument to her chest and crying and he had offered to try and blunt the ends of her fingers so their points wouldn’t damage the strings. They had assumed they were some kind of claw, but the filing process had been too painful and they were forced to conclude that it was all flesh. Or, as much flesh could be said to be had for a being made of fire and shadow. Matteusz imagines that it’s her inability to play that made her decide to try and teach Charlie, although he doesn’t know if Charlie agreed because he actually wants to learn, or if he’s only doing it for her, to make her smile. “He is.” She says, softly. “Not a lot, but– Sometimes he laughs. And then he looks disgusted with himself, but–“ She trails off and Matteusz swallows thickly.

“He is not better when I see him.” He says with a shrug and stares determinately down at the stove, though he can see April out of the corner of his eye.

Her expression is one he’s seen on her many times, but twisted on her new face not made for sympathy. But there’s the same sadness in her wide eyes. “He doesn’t really believe you’re here.” She says. “Or; he doesn’t really believe that you would _want_ to be. He thinks that he’s somehow _forcing_ you. He doesn’t think he’s worthy of you being here.”

Matteusz gives up all pretence of cooking and switches off the stove. “I suppose that it’s true that I am only here for him.” He says. “But even if he did not need me, I would still want to be here.” Matteusz looks up at April and steels himself. “Would it make it better if I left?” 

April thinks about it for a moment. He appreciates that she’s taking the time to make sure her answer is correct, but he hates that she has to. He hates how delicate things have become between himself and Charlie, when they had been so _sure_. “No.” She says, eventually, and Matteusz breathes a sigh of relief. He wants to be here for Charlie. He doesn’t think things will ever be the same as they were before, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be just as good. He won’t be afraid of what Charlie might do anymore, because he will have seen the worst and know that he can help being him back to the light.

Matteusz turns back to the stove and pushes some vegetables absentmindedly around in the frying pan, despite the lack of heat. And then he asks the question he has been dreading and working up to asking for almost a month. He’s not sure he’s brave enough to hear the answer, but he needs to know. “Did Charlie know you would come back?”

April shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not.” She smiles, but it’s sad and strained. “But I think he hoped. He knew _someone_ would come for him, and I think he chose me. Out of all the people from his planet.” And that’s a tragedy in and of itself - Charlie not making a connection in 17 years as strong as the one lasting a couple of months with April. Not even with his family. Matteusz puts down his wooden spoon and sits opposite April at the table. “Even if he didn’t, you have to know that he was looking out for me.” April continues with complete earnestness. “Charlie believes in souls, and he knew the Cabinet would come for me. He didn’t want my soul to be burnt out and destroyed, so in a way he thought he was saving me from something worse than mere death. It’s why I knew I could ask him to shoot me.”  
“What do you mean?” Matteusz asks slowly, and he knows he isn’t going to like the answer.

“Well, someone had to kill me to kill Corakinus, and I knew Charlie was the only one brave enough.” April answers matter-of-factly, as if the can just insert enough rationality into her statement then that will make it acceptable. Matteusz clenches his fists tight until he can feel his nails digging little crescent moons into his palms and breathes deep, steadying breaths and reminds himself that he doesn’t hit people anymore. “Miss Quill could’ve done it, of course, but frankly I don’t trust her enough.”

“So you asked Charlie to.” Matteusz says through gritted teeth, his heartbeat steady and sure and furious in his ears. “That was a very cruel thing to do.”

April doesn’t seem cowed or guilty or intimidated. “I know.” She says, her voice even, staring straight into Matteusz’s eyes. “I’m sorry for it. But it had to be done. And we did save the world.”

“How did he forgive you?” Matteusz asks quietly, except it’s not really his question. Or; it is, and it isn’t. How could Charlie forgive April what she made him do, and in turn how could he forgive Charlie for what he’s done? He tells himself that if he just knows the answer, everything will be fixed. Between him and Charlie, between Charlie and himself. If only _someone_ will tell him what he’s supposed to do. 

“Because we understand each other.” April says, as if she knows what he’s thinking and she’s been waiting for him to ask. And maybe she’s right; she has spent the most time with Charlie, stuck by him before they all came together and through the week where they fell apart. _She_ was never afraid of him. She trusted him implicitly. “Because we’ve both lived in our own war zones all our lives. I saw him wearing his own battles like a second skin the moment we met. And because we’re in this together.” April pauses, and then says clearly, as if this is the most important reason: “Because we’re friends.”

And maybe, just maybe, it really _is_ that simple. 

********************

Matteusz had offered April Miss Quill’s old room when she moved in, but she had refused. Truthfully, Matteusz isn’t even sure that April even sleeps anymore. Even if she does, she is always awake when Charlie starts crying.

It doesn’t happen every night. Just once or twice a week, when Charlie has been particularly quiet and glassy-eyed during dinner, his hair hanging limply over his face rather than combed out of his eyes. Matteusz lays down in bed and he doesn’t sleep. He just waits, listens through the wall. For the small, muted whimpers that become steadily louder and more infrequent; deep, shaky, _gasping_ breaths punctuated by short sobs as the air is finally forced out of lungs that can not take anymore. Charlie doesn’t say anything, but if he did, Matteusz can imagine what it would be. He’s heard it before, after Charlie used the Cabinet. He thinks he should be dead. He wishes he was.

And Matteusz lays there and listens because he doesn’t know what to _do_. He’s always been so sure of himself. Not necessarily sure of what he was doing or what was happening, particularly since Prom, But he’s always been sure of what he wants, and what he can do to get it. But now he doesn’t know how to help Charlie. He’s afraid that he’ll only make it worse. 

And then he hears the door to Charlie’s room swing open and the heavy footsteps of April as she enters. Matteusz knows for a fact that the Shadowkin where not loud walkers, so he assumes April makes herself so so that Charlie will know immediately that it’s her. And she talks to him. Her voice is too quiet to understand her words, but the tone is soft and soothing and eventually Charlie’s breathing calms and quiets and evens out into sleep. Matteusz never hears April leave the room, but she can also float and turn incorporeal.

But today is different. Because Matteusz doesn’t know _how_ to help, but he does know that somehow, _someway_ , he _can_ help. And when he hears the whimpering sounds through the wall he takes a deep, steadying breath and rolls out of bed to his feet. 

April has her hand on the doorknob when Matteusz steps into the hallway, but she moves aside without him having to ask. She smiles at him, small and encouraging, as he steps through the door. 

The room is dark. The only light seeks in under and around the curtains from the streetlamps outside, the space shades of black, grey and blue. With the limited vision, Matteusz can’t see much more than the vague outline of Charlie, wrapped up in his covers. Matteusz makes his way over cautiously, keeps his footsteps light, until he’s standing with his knees pressed against the side of the bed. Finally, he whispers “Charlie?”. Charlie freezes and doesn't look around. “Charlie?” Matteusz asks again, bolder this time. “I promised I would find you if you got lost. Please. Let me find you. Let me try.”

For a moment it doesn’t look like Charlie is ever going to reply, like he’s going to lay silent and still and barely breathing until Matteusz leaves. And then he nods. 

Matteusz breathes a sigh of relief, and then bends down to tug gently at the blankets until he gets ahold of the edge Charlie had tucked under himself and pulls it up so he can crawl underneath and into Charlie’s bed. He lies there, unmoving, for almost five minutes, not wanting to make any sudden movements and lose any progress. And then the tension in the room _snaps_ , and Charlie reaches for him, hands grasping and desperate where they latch onto Matteusz’s shirt and arm as Charlie claws him closer, until his face is tucked in against Matteusz’s neck and he’s lying almost on top of him, grip bordering on painful as his tears make his shirt uncomfortably damp.

And Matteusz doesn’t know what he _should_ do, but he knows what he can do, and he reaches around, one arm around Charlie’s waist and the other buried in his hair, quiet songs in Polish on his lips as he holds Charlie tight and safe. 

He will show Charlie that there is hope.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t necessarily agree with April saying that killing the Shadowkin would make them as bad as them, but I do think that everyone telling Charlie he had to use the Cabinet completely failed to grasp what doing it would do to Charlie, how it would _destroy_ him, because they weren’t the ones who would have to live with committing genocide. It’s easy to say that you have to get rid of an entire planet’s-worth of beings for the good of the universe if you’re not the one who has to actually do it and live with all that blood on your hands. They _wanted_ to do it but _they couldn’t_ so they didn’t have to think about how doing it would affect them in any more than an abstract way where you can remove your emotions; how it will make you feel good without having to think about how it will break you. So they fail to understand how it will affect Charlie. I don’t know, I’m struggling to articulate it properly, but I can’t fathom how they would _ever_ expect Charlie to be happy with what he was forced to do, to feel victorious, to ever be okay with it. I definitely don’t think that stopping the Shadowkin from killing everyone on Earth could _ever_ make you as bad as them, but at the same time how could genocide not profoundly effect your psyche, no matter the reason? Billions of souls left the Cabinet, so presumably Charlie killed billions. It’s just unfathomably damaging. And Ram and Tanya and even Quill could never comprehend it because they were never the ones that would have to do it. I just have a terrible sadness. I want them to _know_ what they made Charlie do. 
> 
> One of the things I really admire about ASOIAF is that we’re presented with a revenge narrative, but instead of being satisfied by it we come out of it thinking that we didn’t want revenge “like that” because it forces us to really _think_ about what those kinds of plots do to the people involved - we feel pity and even sympathy for Theon and Cersei even after everything because of how severally and inhumanly they’re punished; Catelyn/Lady Stoneheart’s desire for revenge turns her into something twisted and horrifying and unrecognisable; we don’t cheer for Arya killing people because she is a traumatised girl being manipulated into being a child soldier, not some “badarse” murdering because the idea of an eleven year old killing someone is “cool”. And I’d love to see something about how using the Cabinet may have saved Earth, but it profoundly changed everyone involved, likely for the worst. Greg Austin at least could pull it off. He really was phenomenal in the finale.


End file.
